


Five Days for the Wolves

by Mairia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Cousin Incest, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, Sibling Incest, jonsacountdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-22 01:16:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11369517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mairia/pseuds/Mairia
Summary: He wasn't like any of the heroes of the songs, none of them sung about the way a presence can make you forget every little bit of problem that you have and somehow, that made it all the more better. He was neither a full blooded wolf nor a dragon but for her, he is everything.[A compilation of my jonsacountdown entries piled into this one fic. DISCONTINUED.]





	1. Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> I can't wait for Season 7 to tear me to shreds and make me bled tears of sorrow or joy, only sixteen days left before season 7 aired. And for those unaware, this is part of the jonsacountdown event happening in the jonsa tumblr tag, you guys should check out the other entries.

 

**DAY ONE - REUNITED**

_It had been a moon’s turn after the Battle for the Dawn with no sign of him, she was already losing hope until he returned to her, weary and could barely move._

 

* * *

 

 

Her lips were numbed, almost like her hands that were covered by some thick black gloves. Standing at the entrance of Winterfell, hoping for some miracle—a relief from the storm raging inside her mind. She can feel the way the frigid wind kissing the tips of her cheeks, snowflakes falling carelessly on the ground she was standing on.

 

Some of those that aren’t in favor of her muttered under their breath that she was mad, that the Prince that was Promised had died in the battle not against the White Walkers but of the more than heavy winter gracing their lands. A moon’s turn since he had been declared missing and a month since she found herself standing from dawn till dusk at the entrance of Winterfell—the guards defending the gates had now been accustomed to her behavior.

 

Silent and with nary a word, just staring blankly at the path ahead of them until her loyal knight managed to whisk her away during important meetings that couldn’t be avoided no matter how hard she tried. She knew this was wrong, the North would suffer if she can’t keep her wits together however they weren’t the one who had gotten to known him.

 

She reminisced the way he chuckled, quiet and almost subdued, when his fingers touched hers and holding them before he closed his warm brown eyes and kissed the top of her forehead and when they were alone—just the two of them with not one to reprimanded them, he enfolded his hands around her waist, cheeks grazing her shoulders as he muttered words upon words of protecting her yet she remembered backing away slightly to give them space before wrapping her hands around his neck and give him a quick simple kiss on the lips that more often than naught, dissolved to a less than pure endeavor.

 

Sansa doesn’t believe that he was gone, with no word and no body. With a sigh, she took one small glance at the sky and saw that nightfall was almost upon them. She suppressed to bite her lower lip and refrained herself from being disappointed—there were always other days he could return. They have a lifetime to catch up, for that, she knew he wouldn’t leave them.

 

If their brother and sister hadn’t given up on him then she wouldn’t too—she couldn’t. None of them could gave up on him, they were the only wolves who had survived the pack.

 

She briefly closed her eyes when she heard the familiar footsteps of Brienne who had come to tell her that she was needed inside, this was a pattern she was already familiar with. And with one last look to the outside of Winterfell, she gave a small sigh of frustration before her gaze drifted towards her knight. She gave one small nod as she turned towards Brienne’s direction and started walking to her in silence.

 

But then instead of saying comforting words, her knight had turned her attention towards something behind her back, eyes wide. Hope suddenly flared at her mind when the guards started shouting and saying words that she couldn’t distinguish as she turned around and her heart almost leaped from her chest as she stared at the figure just a few steps away from her.

 

Strands of his pulled back hair clings to his cheeks as he struggled to breath from the pain, his black tunic were worse for wear—teared around the hems and his trousers weren’t any better—soaked in some blood that she wished weren’t of him, she briefly recalled that he wasn’t wearing the plate of armor that she commissioned and the cloak that she had made herself yet that wasn’t what she was focusing on, his eyes—deep warm brown eyes staring straight at her like she’s the only one worth looking at.

 

The next thing she knew was running towards him, not caring for the fact that her late septa would scold her for the lack of elegance yet she did not despair because the only thing she felt right now is the way his hands enclosed around her shoulders before she felt the first tremors of something within her and without holding back, a soft sob escaped her lips.

 

This was him, it was real.

 

He let her wrap her arms around his neck as she buried her face to his chest, her body shivering from something she couldn’t understand. They stayed like that, his face was on her shoulder beside her ears yet he was not muttering anything, only savoring the moment they have. She closed her eyes and let out a small smile as she heard him let out a small puff of breath, feeling his warm breath grazing her shoulders and then he said two words that almost made her weep, in a voice and tone only meant for her alone.

 

_“I’m home.”_


	2. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second day and the prompt is storm, have some young jon and sansa for your cravings.

**DAY 2 – STORM**

_Little Sansa hadn’t always minded storms until a particular nasty one had hit Winterfell and all she can think about is that they’re all going to die until her bastard half-brother tried to coax her._

* * *

 

 

He suppressed a yawn, gaze fleeting towards the nearest window where he can hear the pound of the heavy rainfall, Jon wasn’t all that worried since as far as he can tell, he doesn’t remember any stories concerning his home being flooded by a storm. And with one last stretch of his limbs, he gave out a small sigh of relief.

 

And then the rumble of thunder was suddenly heard however before he can even move, a small barely heard whimper managed to make him glance at his surroundings. He blinked when he realized that in his idle walk, he had suddenly found himself at the chambers meant for his trueborn siblings, with a confused expression on his face, he tried to hear whomever it was that made the noise.

 

When another rumble of thunder was heard, he had managed to pinpoint another bout of whimper, with quiet footsteps, he had walked towards the door nearest to his left and was met with the door leading to his half-sister’s chamber, he hesitated for a long minute.

 

Not knowing what to do, he just stood there in silence.

 

But then her whimpers became more pronounced and loud, without thinking, he found himself knocking on the door. His half-sister is just a girl of seven and he wondered, most likely than naught that she had been startled and now cowering behind her bed because of the storm, just the thought of that is enough to make his brows furrowed in confusion, he can’t honestly see Sansa acting anything but prim and proper.

 

Instead of responding, he just heard the patter of footsteps nearing towards him but then it stopped. “Robb?” He heard her small soft voice. Oh, he almost forgot, she was closer to their other brother than he was of her however distant they may be, she still pestered him sometimes—teaching him how to dance though he doesn’t want to and telling him how to compliment a girl.

 

He wouldn’t let her suffer and shiver alone in the dark corners of her room. “It’s Jon.” He almost hesitated as he said that, certain that she was not going to say anything once she found that it was him. And she did, not responding.

 

But then another rumble of thunder was heard and the next thing he knew was the sound of her whimpers were heard so clearly that he knew instantly that she was just behind the door, probably resting her back against the door with her arms wrapped around her legs and face buried deep within her knees. “I’m scared.” Her whisper was too soft to hear but he managed to grasp it.

 

Jon doesn’t know what to do, he was just a boy of ten and was not taught how to react upon a situation like this, so he found himself leaning against the door before he slides down to the ground and rest his back on the door, sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him. He doesn’t know how to comfort her, maybe not leaving her alone is enough even if she can’t see him.

 

“Don’t worry…” He started but trailed off, not knowing what to say.

 

To his surprise, he didn’t expect her to immediately respond with a small voice. “Jon, you’re still there?”

 

He suppressed a yawn as he glanced at the door leading to Arya’s chambers, he was sure that she was loitering outside or trying to atleast—not hiding inside her chambers, maybe this was the reason why he doesn’t know how to handle the older of the two, they were as different as night and day, he only knew how to deal with the one closest to him.

 

When thunder had struck again, he almost felt the tremors running through her though there was a door separating the two of them. After another bout of whimper, her voice flitted towards him. “Tell me a story.” He was almost confused, eyes darting towards the ceiling as he contemplated her suggestion and silently asking himself if what he heard was real or maybe his mind was just messing around with him.

 

“A story…?” He asked, hesitant on whether or not to say anything else, he always have to thread carefully when it comes to his half-sister that resembled the Lady Stark more than her siblings does. “Yes, a story.” She quickly responded and he was surprised and everything in between, this must be one of the longest conversation they have considering that she was actively ignoring him as she grew older to please her lady mother.

 

He stayed silent for a minute, he doesn’t know any story that she doesn’t know. As far as he had observed of her, she had basically devoured any and every story in the library and of tales told by old nan—she was interested in songs, knights and ladies. Jon was sure that she’s the one that should tell him a story and not him however it seems that she needed something to distract her from the storm.

 

Jon closed his eyes and tried to recall anything that would be of interest to her, yet for all he knew, the ones that he was thinking was already known and sung by her. This was ridiculous, his mind is going haywire as he tried hard to come with something to please and calm her down.

 

And then the rumble of thunder was heard once more however this time with more power and force—he heard a sob escaped her lips and heard the rustle of clothing before small sniffs can be heard beyond her door. “We’re going to die, this is how I’m going to go—with some stupid storm.” He almost bit back a yelp when she suddenly voiced that out, her tone was haunting and full of sorrow—he was almost flabbergasted that she was not faking it and is actually believing that they’re going to die.

 

Scrambling for his thoughts, he said the first thing that came up to his mind. “Have you heard of Aemon the Dragonknight?” He realized a little too late what he just said, he refrained himself from spluttering, of all the things he can come up with, it has to be the one where she had known the best. As far as he can tell, that was one of her favorite songs and now, he feared that she would not say anything and deemed him someone with lack of socialization.

 

“I have.” Was all she said, he can still faintly hear her sniffing in sorrow from behind the door. Surprised that she had not cast him out, he shifted on the ground—trying to make himself more comfortable as he reminded himself of the story and how it goes. “Please tell me all about it again.”

 

And he did, despite the occasional thunder intruding upon them, he managed to tell her the song, his voice was light and soft—trying to make her feel invited and not intimated as he recalled every little thing and trivia about the hero of the songs and his lady love, they stayed like that until his eyes felt closing and his yawn becoming more frequent.

 

When he had let out another yawn, he was already slumped against the door with a hand covering his mouth as he told her of the love between the knight and his lady, after a few more words, he closed his eyes and just stayed there, worn from telling her of things she had already known yet she was willing to learn once more.

 

“Jon?” That was her voice, he briefly surmised as he tried hard to keep himself from falling asleep on the ground—gods forbid her lady mother saw him outside the door of her favorite daughter. There was a bit of silence as he sat in front of the door, resting his back against it, the storm has long since dimmed to small patters of rain yet he was still here.

 

He hummed in response, silently asking her what she wanted yet not voicing out his thoughts though she seemed to understand. And even with the door keeping them apart, he can hear and felt the sincerity of her words as she muttered to him with her small soft voice, pressing herself against the door as she said something that he never heard escaped from her lips when it comes to him.

 

_“Thank you.”_

 


	3. Childhood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the third prompt for the day called childhood, haha, I'm grasping at straws here, I'm running out of ideas to write a situation for. I have to admit, this isn't that good and I don't particularly like the result.

**DAY 3 – CHILDHOOD**

_He was reluctant on her request, as if the thought of a lesson concerning how to talk to a lady is like facing imminent death by wildfire however she would not let him grow up without knowing this particular tid bit._

* * *

 

Her gaze was settled on the nearest patch of grass, fists clenched on either side of her hips as she remembered the way he gave her a sharp look before he sighed and told her he doesn’t want any of her help. After that, he walked away to probably return back to Robb and their little sister. She bit her lower lip as she tried hard to reign in her annoyance, a good lady doesn’t let negative emotions get the best of her.

 

Her septa had told her so, she wouldn’t disobey that now. But this was ridiculous, Jon had just humiliated her in front of Jeyne who had gave her a look that basically translated to _‘I told you so.’_ though before she can even comment on it, Jeyne’s father had come in to get her back and now, she was alone.

 

With no best friend to comfort her and no half-brother to teach manners to.

 

This wasn’t fair, she only wanted for him to learn how to compliment a lady so that he can find himself someone to be with when the time had come but he had taken it as an insult, she doesn’t even know what his problem was. With a huff of frustration, Sansa crossed her arms below her chest as she contemplated her next move.

 

He may not want to learn it but like how Septa Mordane had handled Arya, she would force him to reconsider his choice and make him see the benefit of it, with a look of determination, she gave herself a small nod before glancing at her surroundings to try and pinpoint where he had walked away only to realize that he was only twenty steps away from her, going to the direction of the training courtyard.

 

Not on her watch, he wouldn’t.

 

She dusted off imaginary dusts on her teal blue wool dress before going after him, her footsteps were light as she tried to sneak up on him but he seemed to have sensed her before then because he stopped walking to crane his neck to look back at her in surprise and was that guilt that she was seeing on his face.

 

 _‘Good_ ’, she thought to herself. _‘He should know better than to walk away from an unfinished conversation.’_

Sansa knew that her bastard half-brother is need of this lesson if his behavior suggested and she would make it her mission for the day to accomplish it besides he’s just a boy of two and ten, boys in that age doesn’t know how to treat a young lady but she would make sure that after they were done on this lesson, he would come out more charismatic than before.

 

“Wait, Jon.” She started as she caught up to him, moving to her left to stand in front of him and then she let the corners of her lips curved upward as she tried to get on his good side, her lord father always said that her smile is enough to make knights out of young and grown men. Truly, her father wouldn’t lie to her. Because all the ones she met had been like that—complimenting her beauty and how she would make a good noble wife someday. “Would you accept my help now?”

 

But before he can even respond, she gave him another smile, this time a little forced though not enough for him to notice as she persuaded. “After this, I would not bother to make you practice dancing lessons with me again,” She remembered dragging him around and asking him to be her partner when Robb was too busy being a boy with Theon.

 

Besides, Jon doesn’t need to know that she had just completed her final lesson with dancing and now, she was focused on enhancing her etiquette and to learn how to act like a lady in the Southron Court. She dreamed of going there someday and knew that to influence someone, she had to practice on her half-brother first. Him being capable of talking properly with the ladies is just a bonus and would benefit the both of them.

 

With a reluctant gaze, he sighed and gave her another look but this time with a resigned expression, she suddenly felt giddy when he gave a quick glance at the direction he was walking before she interrupted him and then his gaze focused back on her. Sansa knew she had won this battle and she could just see the look on her best friend’s face when she told her that she managed to push Jon to accepting her idea.

 

“Okay,” Was all he said as he looked down to the ground as if he was willing it to swallow him whole rather than spend anymore moment with her but she doesn’t really mind that, knowing that they weren’t at all that close unlike him and her other siblings. “But don’t take it too further.” He held up a hand in a stop motion as he gaze at her with one of wary.

 

But Sansa just gave him another smile as she hummed in response, her eyes were alight with excitement as she considered this, her lady mother would surely be surprised when she once more excelled on social protocol and maybe they would even forget that she doesn’t do well with figures that only made her head hurt from the numbers that kept popping up in her mind.

 

She waved a hand to dismiss his assumption as she shook her head. “Oh, Jon, a lady doesn’t take anything further than what was asked of her.” Yes, she thought hastily, this would indeed be a good practice for her. “Now, for our first topic, how would you greet a lady?” She gestured towards herself as she asked that he made her an example.

 

Instead of answering, his eyes kept darting at the path before him—as if considering just bolting away instead of staying here further but she knew that she had made a good bargain and he wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to not be dancing ever again. He nervously shifted on his feet, one hand going back behind his neck and rubbing it as he thought of a suitable answer, Sansa just stared at him in expectant. “Ummm…” He trailed off.

 

“I would tell her hello?” Her face morphed into disappointment as he said this. She knew that Jon wasn’t the most sociable person but the way he said _hello_ made it sound more boring than it actually was. “And then?” She tried to salvage the situation and thought of the poor woman who would fall for him. “And that’s all?” He responded in confusion, looking at her as if she’s the one in the wrong.

 

After a few seconds in which she had paused and expected him to correct his answer but he didn’t instead he just stood there, more uncomfortable than ever. Sansa realized a minute later that he was actually serious about his response. With a resigned look, she had done this to herself and now she had to own up to it.

 

_They’re going to be here for a long long day._


	4. Modern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for today is modern, this is my first time writing a modern setting so I don't know what I'm supposed to do.

**DAY 4 – MODERN**

_She was one of those kids that joined cheerleading tryouts and befriended plastics or so his best friend says—Jon wasn’t listening because he was too busy not gawking at her face that he was sure he remembered making out with at the bar yesterday evening._

* * *

 

He fought back a yawn as he sat down on the sofa, there was a pounding in his head that he was sure that not even medicine can cure, maybe he shouldn’t have come with Theon as a replacement for Robb last night at the bar, this is one of the reasons why he doesn’t go out to drink, he usually woke up with headache that would make anyone regret ever agreeing to a night out.

 

The only good thing about it is that he managed to meet some redhead and though they did manage to get past first base however before they can get anywhere he vaguely remembered her friends interrupting them and saying something along the lines of they need to get going before anyone finds out—he didn’t even manage to get ahold of her name.

 

“So, bang any girls last night?” Robb asked as he walked out of the bathroom to sat beside him on the sofa, with a bath towel on his hand. Instead of responding, Jon just gave him a look that told him to leave him alone or so help him he would do something that he would regret later. “I see, giving me the silent treatment.” He added as he gave Jon a sharp nod before letting out a small snicker at his direction.

 

Jon shifted his gaze towards the low ceiling before he closed his eyes and tried to sleep while sitting up, it was hard but it’s not like his best friend would even move considering that he was being insufferable due to reasons know what. “Hey, did I mention that my sister is coming over today?” He was only half-listening as he hummed in response, not really into making any conversations since any movement he does only ended up with his head hurting more.

 

His mind was still consumed by headache and the fact that he kept remembering her soft lips and pressing herself against him. Of all the things, he could miss an opportunity for, it would be her name. He regretted not managing to introduce himself to her since he was too busy trying to stop Theon from causing any bar fights.

 

“Well, she would be down here any minute now so could you just—“ the next thing he knew was he was being pushed away. Jon’s eyes snapped open as he focused his attention to Robb who is looking straight at him while trying to push him off the sofa.

 

He grumbled under his breath before standing up and giving his best friend a confused expression, not really knowing why the man is trying to push him away. “You do know I pay half the rent, right?” Was all Jon said as he turned around and started walking back to his room, not his problem if Robb wanted to have some sibling bonding with his sister or why he shouldn’t be seen.

 

He heard the squeak of the sofa and knew that Robb had also stood up, “It’s just that my sister can be a bit of a brat sometimes, she’s nineteen and is hanging out with the wrong crowd no matter how hard I tried to persuade her that hanging out with Royce and Tyrell is not right.” Jon doesn’t know what that have to do with him not being able to see her or even the fact that she was hanging out with some girls that Robb said was not right—he was sure that his best friend just doesn’t want any boys hanging around her.

 

With a careless shrug, Jon walked back to his room, opening up the door and immediately going for his bed. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten up from his bed, maybe then he wouldn’t be bothered by Robb then. There were a few minutes of silence as he tried to sleep back again but his head was protesting against getting some rest.

 

So, he stayed there, with his eyes closed. For what seemed like an hour later, there was a sudden knock to the door and then a shout soon followed afterwards and he was sure his heart skipped a beat. He heard that voice before but he doesn’t know who was it. After a few seconds of trying to come up with who it was, he decided to just find out as he stood up and started walking away from his room, not caring for the fact that Robb had asked him to stay at his room. Besides, it’s not like Robb’s going to open the door himself.

 

When he got back to the living room, he saw that there was no sign of his best friend until his eyes made contact with the bathroom, Robb must had taken some shower when he was in his room, with another shrug, he decided to continue his walk towards the door before twisting the knob and opening the door.

 

He was met by startling blue eyes meeting his gaze for the second time.

 

_THIS IS NOT POSSIBLE._

Jon doesn’t know what to do, his gaze was focused solely on the girl in front of him who looked as if she’s trying hard not to bolt out and walk away from the apartment. Just when he was sure that she would walk away for good, she seemed to steel herself as she took a deep breath. “Do you know of someone by the name of Robb Stark?”

 

He blinked and then realized for a second later that she must be his sister. Jon never wanted to slap his head upside down until now, how didn’t he made a connection before was an idiotic move of his. Now that he looked at her closely, she inherited some of the looks that made Robb—well Robb. Swallowing back his nervousness, he gestured inside his apartment, “He’s my best friend.”

 

Jon was sure now that the woman was panicking as her eyes darted back and forth—even going so far as to check her phone and tried to dial some number only for a familiar ringtone to rang out in the kitchen table, Jon took one glance at it and sighed as he opened the door more widely. “Do you believe me now?” After two more ringtones in which she was trying to make sure she wasn’t being tricked, she reluctantly accepted her defeat and walked inside to sit at the sofa.

 

He closed the door without a sound though just when he turned around to face her, Jon thought with a dawning realization that the atmosphere just became a hundred-fold awkward—it basically reeked of tension and nervousness. Maybe Robb was right, maybe he should have stayed on his room.

 

“Where is he?” She asked to break the silence, he mentally thanked her.

 

Jon tried to play it cool as he leaned back on the doorframe with his arms clumsily crossed below his chest. What the heck is his body doing? He tried to scream inside his head but his body won’t correspond as he tried to make himself comfortable in his new position. “In the bathroom.”

 

“Oh.”

 

There was a beat.

 

“When would he come out?”

 

“Probably after a few minutes.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Wow. _Wow._ Jon could feel the uneasiness hanging out in the room—he could practically taste it. Maybe this is one of the reasons why it would be better not to meet the one you’re making out in the bar ever again. Because somehow, he landed in this situation.

 

And then to his surprise, she suddenly stood up and there was something on her face that practically translated to threatening. “Listen here,” She started. “Don’t tell anyone about last night do you hear me?” After she said that, she gave him a sharp look that made him unexpectedly straighten his posture.

 

“What last night?” Ground, swallow him now, he wouldn’t even complain. Why does his stupid mouth always refuse to cooperate when it was needed? And then she bit her lower lip—the only thing on his mind now is her lips as his gaze dropped down towards the soft red painted lips. “Are you listening to me?” He vaguely heard her say.

 

“Um, sorry what?”

 

But she just gave him a glare but before she can even say anything else, the bathroom door opened and Robb come out freshly showered with a new pair of shirt and khaki pants. “Sansa, I thought you would be late!” She sent him one last warning look before turning her attention towards his best friend who is now preoccupied with her.

 

Jon was now sure that this wouldn’t be the last time they would meet.

 


	5. Songs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some book jon and alayne meeting because I'm running out of ideas.

**DAY 5 – SONGS**

_He remembered her loving songs and how she wanted to live in one before she had gone to the South yet she came back disillusioned._

 

* * *

 

He was taking a walk in the gardens of the Vale when he thought he caught a glimpse of her, Jon halted his steps as his gaze shifted towards the retreating figure walking just a few steps away from him though when his eyes registered her strands of black hair spilling over her back, he had hesitated. Maybe it was just his imagination from missing his family though why he seemed to associate her to Sansa is beyond him.

 

With a wrinkle of his nose, he shifted on his feet as he took one last glance at the woman before taking the opposite direction and walked towards there but the moment he turned around, he suddenly felt someone boring their gaze behind his back. Years of battle instinct had been integrated on him and this instinct told him that it was the woman who was staring at him.

 

He didn’t turn around though, resuming his walk and trying hard not to make seem like he had noticed her staring. Jon was still exploring the gardens when he heard a familiar voice singing and this time, he was sure that he was not imagining it. He tried to find the source and eventually stopped walking when he was just edge on a clearing and he saw her, kneeling on the soft snow ground with eyes raptured on a pile of snow that seemed to resemble some snow fort that was still on the process of being built.

 

She was singing, something sad and haunting, her voice was soft, low and was barely heard throughout the surroundings as if the song was meant for her alone without anyone finding out, he doesn’t know why—her voice was quite good, too good that it reminded him of someone he hadn’t seen for a long time now. He remembered Sansa singing in front of several guests, her voice high, excited yet still retaining some elegance as she sang with her heart out.

 

Her singing was suddenly halted. “Lord Snow.” Her soft voice that he was sure he heard somewhere was heard as she said this though she still wasn’t looking at him, her gaze remained on the fort. And then she stood up and bowed her head—too low and still not letting him see her eyes. “Are you perhaps lost?”

 

He didn’t say anything, gaze fleeting towards the fort and her figure—his mind surely knows what’s going on, he wanted to ask her something yet he was not sure that his assumptions were even correct as he stared at her bowed head, not really seeing anything of her features. “Snow is just fine, I’m not any lord.” Was all he said as he watched her shook her head and turned around from him as she started walking idly yet still not showing her face from him.

 

“You are one, are you not?” She asked. “Like the knights in the songs.”

 

 _Songs?_ His mind seemed to echo as he stared at her long flowing hair, it resembled the ink used in parchments. And then something passed through him, _Sansa?_ His mind suddenly said. But it can’t be, as far as he knew, she wasn’t anywhere near the Vale—he didn’t even know where she is right now but the only thing he knows is that she is alive somewhere and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters to it.

 

Jon doesn’t know how what to say as he stared at her back, “My half-sister likes to sing.” He found himself saying softly, he wasn’t close to Sansa yet he remembered when the times when she sang to him about Aemon and his lady love, he hoped she had lived her dream even for a brief moment yet he knew that things in the South hadn’t gone well. He prayed for her, just like how he prayed for Arya, Bran and Rickon. “She always dreamt of going to the South and marrying a prince.”

 

There was a pause. “She may have realized that songs weren’t real, the South isn’t what it presented it to be.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

A soft depreciative chuckle came out of her as he heard her say. “The South is cruel.” The words were soft, barely heard and like her singing—it was as if she doesn’t want to say those words to anyone else but her, he wondered if he was conversing with her or is she talking to herself.

 

And then she turned around and faced him, Jon was still raptured when her pair of painstakingly familiar blue eyes met his and then he realized something. He gazed at her face, high cheekbones that reminded him of her lady mother, eyes that expressed what she thought and though her hair was as black as his, he was sure that it was her. The way she held herself and her voice, it was something that is unique to each and every one of them and he recognized it.

 

It was _her._

**Author's Note:**

> I deeply apologized but I can't continue writing till further notice because school is swamping me with works (in my country, the school starts in june and ends at march) yeah, other countries are having vacation but my country isn't.


End file.
